


Watch For Me By Moonlight

by BookewyrmeWritesFic



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: A Plant Wrote This, Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Character Death, Happy Ending, Inspired by Poetry, M/M, Story within a Story, Tagging character death for Victor and Yuuri, Temporary Character Death, Tragic Stories, but they don't stay dead!, not even death can separate them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-08 10:09:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16427366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookewyrmeWritesFic/pseuds/BookewyrmeWritesFic
Summary: A ghost story based on the poem The Highwayman by Alfred Noyes.Not even death can keep Victor and Yuuri apart for long.





	Watch For Me By Moonlight

**Author's Note:**

> So, if you haven't read [The Highwayman by Alfred Noyes](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/43187/the-highwayman), I highly urge you to do so, it's probably my favorite poem of all time! Even better, listen to the version [Loreena McKennitt](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4yzXQZmG8cw) set to music, it will give you actual chills. And yes, I listened to that a lot while I was writing this. 
> 
> I had the inspiration for this fic suddenly at midnight one night (when I was supposed to be sleeping, thanks brain, you asshole) and had written it using my phone within the next 24 hours. When I first thought of it, I wasn't sure I could write it, because I cannot handle Victuuri dying. But thanks to the encouragement and support from the folks in the Victuuri Fluff Bang Discord, I did it. (Seriously, thanks guys, you all are the best!), and special thanks to LocallyGrownAvocado for suggesting the story-within-a-story framing device, it really was the perfect way to handle this AU.
> 
> Next I need to thank my two betas! [Dommi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dommific/profile) who put aside her crazy piles of her own work to look over this for me and make some really invaluable suggestions, and the really excellent [InLoveWithYOI](https://inlovewithyoi.tumblr.com) for dropping everything to give this a final look-over. Thank you both! <3
> 
> Finally, thanks as ever are due to my Darling Elf ~~and fandom wife~~ , [jfmesq](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jfmesq/profile) for always supporting and encouraging me! <3
> 
> **Edit:** So, my amazing Elf also made me this fabulous Moodboard below! She's awesome and you should definitely show her some love!

The moon shone bright and eerie on the door of the Highwayman's Rest as the young man pushed on the heavy wood. The old building had once been a remote roadside inn, but civilization had encroached as it was wont to do, until now the Rest was merely on the edge of town, no longer remote. It still backed into the moors, and inside the low lit, wood-furnished room still gave a sense of remoteness. The wind rustled chill in the trees, a winter bite sending a shiver down the young man’s spine and making him pull his thick coat tighter around his shoulders as he slipped inside.

Yuuri adjusted blue framed glasses and a full travel-backpack, peering around the empty room for signs of a proprietor. His eyes lit on a silver-haired man behind the dark oak bar. As he stepped inside, the other man lifted his head from his book and smiled at him. His breath drew in with a little gasp at the beauty of the man’s smile, a shy answering smile creeping across his face.

“Hi! Welcome! Come in and have a seat” the proprietor’s blue eyes sparkled in welcome. He shifted to stand. “Need a drink?”

“Yes, please. Just a pint of the local?”

“Sure thing! You’re my first customer of the evening.” The proprietor chattered cheerfully as he moved elegantly around behind the bar. “I’m Victor.”

His guest gave a shy smile as he took his drink. “I’m Yuuri.”

Victor beamed and sat with his own glass across from Yuuri. “I hope you don’t mind, I’ll sit with you. It’s not a night for sitting alone if one can help it. It’s a Highwayman night if ever I’ve seen one!”

Yuuri looked puzzled. “A what?”

Victor gasped. “You haven’t heard the legend of the Highwayman and his lover the Innkeeper’s son? It’s a great tragic romance associated with this pub when it was a roadside inn.”

“N-no, I can’t say I have.”

Victor grinned and put two pint glasses down on the bar, settling back onto his stool. “Well, tonight is a perfect night for ghost stories. Want to hear?”

“Sure,” his guest smiled shyly again.

“Well! Legend has it, back when this was a roadside inn alone at the edge of the moor, on a night very like this, when the moon turned the road into a bright ribbon and the wind tossed the clouds about like ghost ships, a Highwayman came riding up to the old inn door…”

* * *

The Highwayman’s horse clattered into the inn-yard, the wind running dark fingers through his hair gleaming silver in the moonlight. Darkness greeted him, no hint of light behind the sturdy shutters and door. He stood in his stirrups and rapped at the window, a bright look on his face, whistling a cheerful tune. The shutter popped open and a tousled dark head looked down on him, face shining with affection even in the ghostly light of the full moon.

“Let me in, my love! I have news!”

The Innkeeper’s Son smiled and nodded, closing the shutter again. The Highwayman dismounted, tying his horse loosely beside the door.  
“Stay Makkachin. We ride again soon tonight.” The horse whickered and shoved his brown nose against his master affectionately.

The heavy side door creaked open and The Highwayman slipped inside, waiting for his lover to lock it again before sweeping his beloved up into his arms and pressing a passionate kiss to his mouth. Arms came up to circle velvet-clad shoulders, pulling the Highwayman close until their bodies were entangled as their lips pressed insistently together. The Highwayman buried his hands in soft black locks and pressed his lover back against the door, grinding their hips together until they were both panting, foreheads pressed together as soft moans passed between them.

The young man’s sweet voice caressed his lover’s ears. “I missed you, love. You’ve been gone so long this time!”

“Ah, I know, I missed you too, my star, but it’ll be worth it this time! I came to tell you, I’ve found a very great prize. I’m going after it tonight. It’s so big I can stop all this, and just be with you. We can have our own house, and I’ll dress you in velvet and doe-skin like your beauty deserves.” Even in the dim light of the hall, he could see the way his beloved’s cheeks pinked in embarrassment and pleasure.

“That sounds nice. Will we live here?”

The Highwayman’s fingers stroked young man’s cheeks followed by gentle kisses trailing down his neck. “We’ll live wherever you like, darling. Your parents are very kind, I’m sure they would make space for an ex-highwayman here at the Inn.”

“Yea, they love you, it...oh!” This last came out as a gasp as The Highwayman nipped the tender skin of his collar bone. His hips bucked in pleasure, and his lover responded with another low moan muffled in the soft skin of his neck.

The old inn clock struck the hour and The Highwayman swore, stilling in his embrace. “Damnit. I’ve got to go, or I’ll miss my quarry.”

“Must you? We could live quite comfortably here, you know we could.”

The Highwayman pressed a lingering, regretful kiss to his lips and moved back. “We might be comfortable, but you deserve more than mere comfort. Besides, this last haul will be a fitting end to my glorious career!”

The Highwayman slid out the door again, but his lover pulled pulled him back into the shadows one last time, kissing him fiercely on the doorstep.

“Come back to me, my love.”

“Always, my beloved. I will come tonight or tomorrow. No power in heaven nor hell can keep me from your side.”

With a flourish of jeweled pistols and polished boots The Highwayman leapt back into his saddle. The Innkeeper’s Son watched from the shadows, a hand pressed to his breast as his lover rode off to the west.

Neither man noticed another figure slip from the stable-yard and trot in the opposite direction.

* * *

  
Yuuri waited on pins and needles through the entire next day. Victor’s kisses burned still on his lips, and every clatter of a horse’s hooves made his heart leap in his breast. He moved in a fog about his duties, waiting for his beloved’s return with every nerve alight with worry.

The long day finally dragged to a close with no sign of the highwayman. Out of the dusk instead marched a troop of King George’s men, buttons and muskets gleaming in the dying light of the sun. Yuuri frowned when they turned into the inn-yard, and frowned again when the Sargent stopped and spoke outside in a low voice to the stableman Tom. The troop had no horses, should not have needed the services of the hostler. Tom threw a look over his shoulder, his eyes narrowed with some dark emotion that seemed to pierce Yuuri to the core.

With a shiver, Yuuri withdrew to help his mother set up more beds in upstairs rooms, laying out pallets for the men. Let his father serve these hard-eyed men in their scarlet coats that reminded Yuuri horribly of spilled blood.

Yuuri was just finishing the last pallet and had turned down the hall to his own small room near the front of the inn. He didn’t fancy going downstairs, hearing the harsh laughter of the men and the scrape of furniture as the troop moved about downstairs. The heavy tread of boots on the stairs was the only warning he had before rough hands captured him, shoving him into his own room.

Panic overcame Yuuri, his breath rasping up his throat and around the hard hand clasped over his mouth. He twisted and struggled against the soldiers’ hold, but they merely laughed cruelly at his efforts. They bound him hand and foot to the posts of his bed, shoving a foul rag in his mouth to gag him. A musket bound to his side was a warning to him.

The Sargent grinned and spoke harshly. “Alright, sweetheart. Keep a good eye out for your lover now!”

Yuuri’s breath rattled in his nose and tears stung his eyes, blurring his vision of the road as one of the soldiers flung the casement open and knelt beside it, musket at the ready. Others spread out to other rooms, and Yuuri heard the cocking of guns and the clattering bang of other shutters being opened. Realization hit Yuuri like a physical blow; Victor was in danger. They were hunting him and had somehow found out his identity. Everyone knew Victor was his lover, and now Victor was going to die for it!

Renewing his frantic struggles against the harsh ropes binding his wrists, Yuuri bit hard on the gag, suppressing any whimpers of pain as the fibers dig into his skin, slicking his wrists with blood. All his struggles were in vain, every knot tied tightly. His eyes were trained on the road as he moved, fearing a glimpse of silver hair in the moonlight. Each minute dragged in the heavy silent darkness, Yuuri’s pulse pounding a tattoo of fear in his throat.

The old clock downstairs began striking the hour. Just as the twelfth stroke faded away, Yuuri felt his finger touch the trigger of the musket bound beneath his breast. He stilled, quivering, eyes fixed on the empty strip of road out his window. The enormity of what he contemplated crashed over his head. Could he really do it? Could he sacrifice his life for Victor like this?

Yes.

Victor was worth everything. Anything. Yuuri’s one regret would be not being able to clasp his lover in his arms one last time.

The strain of terror and exertion and waiting quivered through him again.

Tlot tlot. Tlot tlot.

Yuuri stiffened, straining his ears. He’d know the rhythm of Makka’s gait anywhere. The sound moved closer every second, echoing down the road. The soldiers were still and silent in the casements. For one brief heartbeat, Yuuri dared hope they might not hear. That maybe it wasn’t Victor. Maybe this was all a horrible dream. Then the moon fell on a figure in wine red riding atop a tall dark horse, moonlight caught in his hair.

A heartbeat, then another as Yuuri filled his gaze with the sight of his lover limned in silver light. One final deep breath, and his finger moved. Then only noise, pain, and darkness.

~  
The musket’s sharp report split the air, shuddering through the trees. Makka reared, whinnying, and Victor turned his head, galloping back to the next town over, away from whatever danger lay at the inn. Victor would have to lay low another night before returning to his beloved’s embrace. But he knew Yuuri would wait for him no matter how long it took, and so he turned his mind to hiding.

Dawn found him approaching a public house on the edge of town. An old friend was the proprietor and would give him room to lay low another day. Exhaustion made his head droop over the reins and slowed his steps as he led Makka toward the stable. Makka’s head drooped too, shoulders low.

“ -Katsuki. Their son?” A voice speaking about his beloved froze Victor in his tracks, a sudden foreboding shivering down his spine. The voice continued.  
“Yea, shot himself they say but I heard a troop of redcoats marched on the inn, guns blazing and shot him down. The Katsukis are devastated of course. Their only son!”

Ice filled Victor’s veins, the blood draining from his face as if from a mortal wound. That report had been Yuuri’s death knell. However it had come about, his beloved had been killed. Murdered. By soldiers. Most likely soldiers looking for him. Fear, horror, and rage chased through his head as he leapt astride Makka’s back, furiously spurring him back down the road. Vengeance narrowed his vision and tears blinded him as he rode, screams of anguished loss tearing from his throat.

He crested the rise just beyond the inn as the sun beat down directly overhead. The troop were lounging about the inn-yard still, their coats the color of blood. Rage narrowed Victor’s vision to a tunnel as he drew his rapier, shouting imprecations.

Crack. Crack. Crack.

Three sharp reports, a blooming of pain in his chest, and Victor slumped sideways out of the saddle, darkness overtaking him. His last thought was “at least I’ll be with Yuuri again.”

* * *

  
The silver-haired proprietor grinned at the horrified look on his guest’s face.

“So. They both just...just died? Just like that?”

“Yea. I told you it was a tragedy! But the legends say, on nights like this, sometimes you can still hear the clatter of his horse’s hooves around the inn and echoing across the moor. Some people have even sworn they’ve seen a man in red velvet knocking on the inn door, greeted by a black-haired young man.”

“Like ghosts?” Yuuri shivered.

“Mmhmm. I like to think the lovers found each other again, and are together forever.”

Yuuri giggled. “So you’re a romantic huh?”

Blue eyes sparkling, Victor grinned. “Yea, a bit. Anyway. I don’t think I’ve seen you around before!”

“I’m traveling in the area, and this place had great Yelp reviews, so I thought I’d stop and see. They said the owner was very friendly.”

Victor leaned closer and smiled into warm brown eyes. “And how did you like my ghost story?”

“Well. It was very good, but very sad. I prefer happier stories, really.”

“Oh!” Victor’s grin was wide and heart-shaped. “I have lots of stories! Why don’t I lock up the bar and we find a more comfortable place to talk? My rooms are upstairs, if you want! Besides, you must meet my poodle Makka!”

“I think I’d love that.” Yuuri’s face was bright and happy.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, I really hope you enjoyed my contribution to this Spooky Season! If you want to say hi or anything I'm easy to find on tumblr at [thebookewyrme.tumblr.com](http://thebookewyrme.tumblr.com).
> 
> If you're looking for recommendations for other things to read, come ask my Elf and I for a suggestion at [The Fic Rec Fairy Blog](https://theficrecfairy.tumblr.com)!


End file.
